We Can't Handle This
by BlueEyedWolves
Summary: After nearly three years of being able to read minds, Avalon Jones's parents decided to seek some supernatural help. They relocate to Beacon Hills in search for answers for their daughter's abilities. But Avalon soon discovers that telepathy is not so bizarre in the town of Beacon Hills. / Starts in 3B -includes Nogitsune!Stiles- / Rated M for language and brief sexual content
1. The Kindness of a Stranger

**Chapter 1: _The Kindness of a Stranger  
_**

**Song:** _Seven Devils_ by Florence + The Machine

* * *

Avalon Jones knew that there was a legitimate reason that her and her family was moving to some no-name town in the middle of nowhere Northern California. But that didn't mean that she didn't have the right to be upset about it.

She knew there was something wrong with her, that she was definitely _not_ normal.

_Maybe he can fix her_. Avalon heard her mother say in her head. _Maybe my baby girl can be normal._

That was the part about Avalon's _abilities_ that she hated the most—people thought of her as a freak, as an abomination. It's not like she could help it. It's not like she chose to be the way she is. It just _happened_. One day she was a completely normal teenager, and the next she could hear people's thoughts. And after three years of this _ability_ of hers, she could barely control it.

She was capable of tuning out the pounding words coming from others' minds by concentrating. She had to find something to hold on to, a single thought, an image in her mind. Most of the times it was her older brother. Michael had left for college four years prior, so he didn't know that his younger sister could read minds, but Avalon looked up to him.

Mrs. Jones pulled into the parking lot of Beacon Hills High School, dropping her daughter off for her first day at her new school. Avalon was incapable of driving herself; the thoughts of nearby drivers were far too distracting.

Neither one of the Jones women said a word as Avalon exited the vehicle.

Ever since her parents discovered that she could hear people's thoughts, they avoided contact with Avalon. They began treating her differently, like she was some sort of monster.

So Avalon hid herself from the world, not speaking to anyone unless they spark the conversation, unknowingly spiraling into a state of acute depression.

As she strode down the halls, she could hear the pounding voices echoing throughout her head. Avalon tried as hard as she could to focus, to concentrate on something—anything. But she could feel the glares of unknown students burning into her skin, hearing their cruel, judgmental thoughts. And she completely lost it. Her chest tightened. She rammed her side against a wall of lockers, leaning on them with all her weight. Avalon lifted her head up, looking up at the ceiling, trying to get ahold of her thoughts, desperately wanting the voices in her head to shut up, to just stop for two minutes so she could get her shit together. Her back slid down the lockers towards the floor, until she was eventually sitting on the ground, pulling her feet tight into her chest.

Breathing became more and more difficult. She was constantly gasping for air, and the thoughts that she was hearing were only making it worse.

_Is she dying?_

_Who the fuck is that?_

_I wonder if I should go help her._

_Woah, that girl needs to chill. _

Suddenly, two arms pulled her into her feet, leading her into a vacant classroom. The boy shut the door behind him.

"Just try to calm down," he told her, "What's your name?" Avalon struggled to speak, until she forced the words out of her mouth.

"A-Avalon," she gasped.

"Avalon, well, you're having a panic attack, okay?" he grasped her shoulders, pulling her closer and gazing intensely into her eyes. "I need you to relax, Avalon. Just focus really hard on taking a big, deep breath." And Avalon did. She focused real hard, but it was _not_ on breathing. She continued staring into his large brown eyes, watching as his pupils widened then contracted again, focusing on the silence. Wait—the silence. The sudden realization dumbfounded her. Usually when she tried to drown out the voices, she could still hear them very faintly in the background. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't hear a single one of his thoughts.

"I-I can't hear you," she mumbled, her breathing steadying. The boy looked confused.

"What?"

"I cant hear you," she said louder, "Why can't I hear you?!" Her face reddened with frustration. That's all it took to turn it off? A _panic attack_? "What the fuck?! _Why can't I hear you?!_" she screamed.

"Avalon!" he shouted over her. "What do mean you can't _hear_ me?" The boy raised his eyebrows, suspicious of supernatural abilities. "What do you like read minds or something?" the boy said jokingly, but as Avalon's eyes widened, he realized that he must've beet onto something. "Wait you can _read minds_?"

"Apparently everyone's, but yours," she rolled her eyes. The boy's facial expression suddenly drastically changed. He looked as though he knew something, like he knew _too_ much, like he knew some horrifying, dark secret. "What? What is it?"

"Nothing, it's just…" he started, fiddling his thumbs, "I kind of temporarily died and then came back to life, losing a part of my soul. And now apparently there's some sort of door open in my mind. That might have something to do with it," he shrugged. Stiles couldn't believe he just told her all that. Barely anyone knew about that, and he'd just told a complete stranger.

Avalon observed as he had spoken rapidly, as if he was hesitant to tell her all this. She couldn't blame him if he was, though. That was kind of difficult to entirely believe. But then again, Avalon's abilities were unbelievable as well.

"That's… that's interesting," Avalon crossed her arms at her chest as she looked the boy suspiciously up and down. "What did you say your name was again?"

"Stiles," he introduced himself, realizing he had never told her his name. Avalon strolled toward the door, leaning her head against it, listening to the various thoughts of the passing teens. She then walked back over to Stiles, getting real close to him, concentrating on his thoughts. But it was no use. All she heard was silence.

"Huh…" she pondered aloud, "Not a damn thing." She looked over him again, examining him. "You sure are interesting, Stiles."

Avalon inched closer to him, her eyes scanning his face, observing every little feature. She was curious about him. And she wondered how similar they really were. She felt dead inside, and a part of his soul was lost. But before she had a chance to find out any more about Stiles, the bell sounded, signaling for students to get to class.

"What class do you have right now?" Stiles asked her. Avalon checked her arm, viewing the schedule she had written with black ink in order to remember it.

"Uh… World history. With Mr. Yukimura," she answered. Stiles began headed towards the door.

"Oh, good. I have that too." The two teens scurried down the hall to their first period class. "You're new, right?" Stiles asked, looking over at her as they walked.

"Yeah. I just moved here from Los Angeles," she informed. Like a gentleman, he held the door open for Avalon. She timidly entered the classroom.

"You must be Avalon. Welcome," a smiling Asian man, who Avalon assumed was Mr. Yukimura, greeted. "Please take a seat," he gestured to the vacant seat in the front row, and she did as he said. She rolled her eyes as she realized it was so _conveniently_ directly to the right of Stiles' seat.

"Alright, everyone. Let's get started," Mr. Yukimura announced, silencing the class. "We were just talking about interment camps and prisoners of war. There's a passage in our reading that I'd like to go over in more detail. Who would like to come up and read aloud for us?" Avalon had a feeling that was a rhetorical question. She hated how teachers would always end up hand-picking students when they "ask" for "volunteers". She felt sorry for the poor sucker that would get dragged into reading that boring passage aloud. "Mr. Stilinksi, how about you."

Stiles looked nervously at Mr. Yukimura, a shocked expression on his face. "oh, um… Maybe-maybe someone else could.."

"Everyone participates in my class, Mr. Stilinski," the teacher responded sassily.

"Okay…" Stiles shuffled in his seat, before getting up and approaching the podium. He glared nervously down at the book, looking almost as if he couldn't _see_ the words on the page, like he was trying to get a camera to focus. He squinted, intensely gripping the edge of the podium. His face began to shake, his eyes rolling slightly to the back of his head. He then looked back up at the class, seeming to be sort of dizzy. Stiles's entire body shook as he began taking deep huffs of air, like it was getting harder for him to breath.

_No, Stiles. No, not here. Not now!_ Avalon heard the tan boy's thoughts as he stood up, slowly beginning to walk towards Stiles.

"Stiles, you okay?" he asked. Stiles took a deep breath, grabbing the podium again as he lost his balance. The tan boy then rushed to aid Stiles.

"I should take him to the nurses office," he told Mr. Yukimura, and Mr. Y nodded. The tan boy then grabbed Stiles' arm, escorting him out of the classroom.

Avalon shot out of her seat. "I think I'll go make sure they're alright. You know how teenage boys can get," she fake joked as she rushed past the teacher before he could protest, exiting the classroom and following the two boys down the hall. They were headed to the boys bathroom. Avalon briefly debated whether or not she should follow them inside. But as she heard the tan boy's frantic thoughts, she decided to go for it. She stood quietly hidden in the doorway, watching as Scott attempted to calm Stiles down.

"Stiles! Stiles, look at me, man." Stiles stumbled about the room, grabbing ahold of the sink. "Is this a panic attack?" the tan boy asked. Stiles stared intensely at himself in the mirror, breathing heavily.

"It's a dream," he gasped, "It's a dream. This is just a dream!" Stiles told himself.

"No it's not," the tan boy said, desperately trying to calm his friend down, "This is real. You're here. You're here with me." Stiles continued to stare in the mirror, his breathing getting more and more ragged. "Okay, um. What do you do? I-I mean like, how do you tell if-if you're awake or dreaming?"

"Fingers. You-you count your fingers—you have extra fingers in dreams." His breathing continued to get worse and worse. Avalon didn't know whether to step in or not. She froze up, afraid she would make the wrong decision.

Scott held up one finger. "How many do I have?" But Stiles ignored his simple question at first. "Hey! Look at me. C'mon, Stiles. Look at my hands and count with me." Stiles dizzily turned around, glancing at the tan boy's hands. "One," the tan boy began counting.

"Two," Stiles said as the tan boy held up another finger. He then held up one more finger as Stiles glanced down at the floor.

"Keep going," the tan boy demanded. Stiles looked back up at his hand, "three… four…"

"Five," the tan boy said, encouraging Stiles.

"Six… seven…"

"Eight," he helped.

Stiles looked a tiny bit calmer each time he counted another finger. "Nine…" The tan boy put up the last finger, and Stiles looked as if a huge weight was lifted off his chest. "Ten," he said, breathing a bit easier.

"Ten," the tan boy reassured. Stiles then relaxed completely, his breathing becoming normal again. He leaned against the bathroom wall, sliding down it until he was sitting on the ground. "What the hell is happening to me?" he asked in disbelief, shaking his head. The tan boy crouched down to meet Stiles' eye level.

"We'll figure it out," he said positively, "You're going to be okay."

"Am I? Are you?". The tan boy didn't respond. "Scott, you can't transform. Allison's being haunted by her dead aunt. And I'm straight up losing my mind," he said bluntly. Avalon couldn't believe her ears. _Transform_? _Seeing dead people_? She couldn't help but to wonder if there was more messed up shit going on here than her bizarre mind powers.

"We can't do this," Stiles said softly, shaking his head, "We can't. We can't help Malia… We can't help anyone."

_You're right_, Avalon heard Scott think, but his words said otherwise.

"We can try," he said, staying optimistic in order to help his friend. "We can always try."

Avalon then cautiously slid open the door, walking slowly into the boys bathroom.

"Avalon," Stiles breathed. Scott looked confused. "Did-did you just see all that?"

She nodded, walking over to the boys.

"You guys sure are something else, you know that?" she smiled

_Who the hell are you? _Scott thought, _Shit, I hope she didn't hear the part about us going crazy._

"My name's Avalon," she said to Scott, "And yes, I did. I heard everything. And right now I want the same thing from you that you want from me—answers."

* * *

**A/N: Thank you so much for reading! Please be sure to review- good or bad, your opinions mean the world to me! Just informing you, I work on my writing ****everyday, so I'll try to get new chapters posted ASAP! But I'm currently working on three Teen Wolf stories (this is the only one I've posted so far). But please let me know what you think of it so far!**

**xx Izzy**


	2. Inclusion

**Chapter 2: **_**Inclusion**_

**Song: **_Sleepsong _by Bastille

* * *

"You—Wha—How'd… You could _read my mind_?" Scott asked in disbelief. Avalon nodded.

"Yes, I can read your mind. I can read everyone's mind… everyone's except Stiles, that is." She glanced at Stiles, her mind wandering about how he said he was losing his mind. But then she was snapped back to reality. "So, Scott. Wanna give me some answers now? What did Stiles mean when he said that you couldn't _transform_?"

She tried her hardest not to read Scott's mind, but it was too tempting, and his thoughts were just so loud. _Shit, now she knows I'm a werewolf._

"Werewolf?" she asked out loud.

"Damn it," Scott cursed under his breath. _Well there's no hiding it now_, he thought. _Wait, what was that? _His ears perked up, catching his attention.

"What was what?" Avalon asked about Scott's thought. But before he could answer he bolted out the door, down the hall, leaving Avalon alone with a disheveled Stiles.

"You okay?" she asked him. She shook her head, realizing how much of an idiotic question that was. "What am I saying, of course you're not okay. That was an extremely stupid question. I'm sorry."

"No, don't be," Stiles said, placing his hand on hers. "I'm fine."

* * *

Avalon watched with Scott at her side as Stiles walked down the hall with his dad. Apparently they were discussing some case on a missing girl, who was actually some sort of were-coyote.

"What happens if she does hurt someone?" Stiles asked his father. Sheriff Stilinski sighed.

"Most likely they'll have to put it down."

"Put _her_ down," Stiles corrected. "Dad, try not to forget, there's a _girl_ in there—one that you'll be killing." He gave his dad a look of disbelief. "Come on, you're not back to not believing, are you?" The sheriff stopped in his tracks, turning to face his son.

"You know what, there are a lot of things I don't believe yet." His voice lowered to a whisper, and Avalon had to creep closer in order to hear him. "But that doesn't bean anything and everything imaginable is suddenly possible. Now are you one hundred percent sure that this is a girl and not an animal—"

"_Yes_," Stiles snapped, his eyes widening. His face then relaxed, "Because Scott's sure." Both the Stilinski men looked over their shoulders at Scott, who was standing right beside Avalon.

_Who's the girl?_ She heard the Sheriff think.

Stiles then turned around, facing away from Scott. Then Scott shook his head.

"What's he saying?" Avalon asked.

_He's asking if I was listening_, Scott told her telepathically. That was the first time that anyone had purposely tried to speak to her using her abilities, and she found it insanely thrilling. A smile spread across Avalon's face.

Stiles and his father then left down the hall, and out of Scott and Avalon's sight.

"I don't know what exactly you two are up to, but I want in," she told Scott.

"No," he snapped. _We could really use her abilities to our advantage,_ she heard Scott's thought process, _No, Scott. You have to protect her. You have to make sure she stays safe_, he told himself.

"I can protect myself, Scott. I don't know if you noticed, but I'm kind of always one step ahead. I can tell what someone's going to do or say before they actually do it," she shook her head, "I need you to let me in, okay? I need to actually be involved in something to keep my mind off the fact that I'm driving myself _crazy_."

_I don't want you to get hurt_, Scott thought.

"You know, you and Stiles… You're my only friends. And you're also the only people who know about this whole mind reading thing besides my parents, who by the way think I'm some sort of messed up freak. And you get it. You actually _understand_ all this shit that's happening because in a way, you're messed up too. So please, Scott. _Please_ just let me help."

There was a brief moment of silence. And Avalon realized that it was actual _silence_. Scott must've not been thinking of anything at all, because she heard absolutely nothing.

"C'mon," Scott said as they rushed down the hall, following Stiles and his dad.

* * *

They were in the boys locker room, looking around for any clues that would help them turn a were-coyote back into a human again. Avalon stood behind Scott as he was crouched down, touching the ground, watching as one of the other new girls was speaking to her dad, which turned out to be Mr. Yukimura.

_What's she thinking?_ Scott asked.

Avalon honed into the girl's thoughts, smiling as she listened.

"She likes you," Avalon whispered before turning away.

"Hey," Stiles called. Scott stood up and met Avalon and Stiles against one of the walls of lockers, hidden from all surrounding people's sites of view. "I think I know what she was looking for." Stiles pulled out an old baby doll from his backpack.

_Malia's doll._ Scott shot Stiles a disapproving look. "You took the doll from the car."

"Yeah," Stilinski sighed, "I thought you could use it, you know? For like her scent or somehting"

_What are they doing with my daughter's doll?!_ Avalon heard an angry voice getting louder.

"Uh, Stiles—" she began to warn, but she was interrupted by the angry voice speaking aloud.

"Where did you get that?" the frazzled man entered the locker room, approaching the three teens. "Where did you find this?!" He snatched the doll from Stiles's grasp, a look of rage on his face. But the look soon settled into one of pain. "It belonged to my daughter," he spoke softly, his full concentration on the doll.

"Sorry boys… and _girl,_" Sheriff Stilinski pushed his was past the teens, reaching the man holding the doll. "Mr. Tate, I don't know how you heard about this—if you've got your own police scanner or what. But you can't be here," he confronted the man. The sheriff grabbed the man's torso, attempting to escort him from the building, but he stopped as he felt something under the man's coat. He lifted the material up, revealing a hand gun tucked into the waistband of the man's jeans.

"I have a permit," Mr. Tate defended himself.

"California schools are gun-free zones. Permit, or no permit. You need to leave, Mr. Tate. _Now_."

Mr. Tate continued to defend himself as the sheriff lead him out of the building.

"You find that animal," he demanded, "You find that _thing_!"

The concerned looks of the three teens shifted back and forth, from Scott to Stiles, to Avalon, back to Scott.

They needed to find that coyote before Mr. Tate.

* * *

"Xylazine," the veterinarian told the four teenagers, "It's a tranquilizer for horses." He set three small bottles of clear fluid on the table. "For a were-coyote, expected to work within seconds. I only have three," he warned, "so whoever's shooting needs to be a damn good shot."

"Allison's a perfect shot," Scott said.

"Well, she—she used to be." The boy in the scarf was being pessimistic.

"She can do it," Scott, on the other hand was being overly optimistic.

"If we manage to find the thing."

"Okay what is the point of him?" Stiles asked, pointing to the boy in the scarf, "Seriously, what—what is his purpose? Aside from the persistent negativity, and the scarf. What's up with the scarf anyway—it's sixty-five degrees out."

The boy in the scarf smiles maliciously, trying to keep his cool.

"Who's the girl?" he asked, looking over at Avalon.

_She sure is hot_

"Oh, keep it in your pants, Scarf Boy! Don't you have a girlfriend?" she snapped. Scarf Boy glared at her suspiciously. "Yes, we get it, I can read minds. Let's not get off topic here. We were talking about the were-coyote, remember?"

Scarf Boy shrugged it off, getting back on topic.

"Look, maybe I'm asking the question no one here wants to ask. Alright, how do we turn a coyote back into a girl, when she hasn't been a girl for eight years." It came out more like a rhetorical question. But Scott seemed to have an answer.

"I can do it," he said. Everyone seemed confused.

"You can?" Stiles asked.

"Yeah, remember the night that Peter trapped us in the school?"

_I turned when he howled_. Avalon didn't really know what exactly they were talking about but it was better than having no plan at all.

"He was able to make you turn using just his voice," Avalon finished Scott's explanation.

"This is a were-coyote. Who knows if it'll even work if you can find someone who can teach you?" the vet asked.

"That's why you called Derek first," Stiles put two and two together.

_He was supposed to teach me_, Scott thought, _I can try it on my own. I _have_ to do it on my own_.

"You can try it, Scott," Avalon attempted to encourage him.

"But right now, I'm too scared to even change into just a werewolf."

Stiles scratched his face, thinking. "We need a real alpha."

_Thanks, Stiles. Real encouraging._

"You know what I mean, an alpha that can do alpha things, you know. An alpha who can get it going, you know. An alpha who can get it—"

"—Up," Scarf Boy chimed in. Stiles raised his arm in agreement, nodding. Avalon's eyes widened at the analogy.

"Great, I'm an alpha with _performance issues_." For some strange reason, he looked over at Avalon when he said that, her face turning beet red.

"Is there anyone else besides Derek who could help?" the vet asked, making things less… uncomfortable.

"I wouldn't trust Peter," Scarf Boy said.

"Maybe the twins?" Stiles suggested.

"They're not alphas anymore," the vet corrected.

_Right, because Jennifer beat them so bad, they almost died. And now they're only Betas._

"Who's Jennifer? And why do I have this feeling like she's not alive anymore…?" Avalon asked, wanting a complete understanding of what happened before she moved here.

"We'll fill you in later, Av, okay?" Stiles told her, "But what if they know how to do it?" he asked, referring to the twins.

"Nobody's seen them for weeks," Scott said.

"Well, actually, that's uh, not totally true."

_Lydia_.

* * *

**A/N: This chapter was definitely one of the least interesting, but please don't become disinterested! After they find Malia, things get really juicy with Avalon, so please hang in there! I wrote this right when I woke up this morning because I was so pleased with how many people followed and favorited the story :) you guys are awesome.**

**I also wanted to point out that Teen wolf, as well as the overall storyline belongs to Jeff Davis—the only thing that is truly mine is the OC and the relationships she forms with the other characters :)**

**Thanks a ton,**

**Izzy xx ;)**


	3. Useless

**Chapter 3: **_Useless_

**Song: **_Save Me _by Moxi

So many questions were racing through Avalon's mind.

_Who was Lydia?_

_What made Scott so different than other werewolves? What made him an __alpha__?_

_What had happened before she moved to Beacon Hills?_

_How many people died?_

But now was not the time for explanations. Like that famous saying—do first, ask later.

Avalon followed Stiles and Scott to an old loft, where they met Lydia.

"Who's this?" the strawberry blonde asked with raised eyebrow. Avalon wanted to scream as the flood of voices rushed throughout her mind. Her hands grabbed her ears, somehow hoping it would drown them out, but it was useless.

"Avalon. Avalon, you okay? What's wrong?" Stiles asked, concerned. He rested his hand on her lower back in attempt of calming her down.

Whirls of whispers flowed through her head, moving so fast that Avalon couldn't make out what they were saying.

"There's so many of them," she spoke softly, yearning to turn it off. She wanted the silence back, the calm, peaceful silence she got when she was alone with Stiles.

"So many what? What do you hear?"

"Whispers," she breathed, "T-too many to understand." All eyes went to Lydia.

"Y-you can hear them? The voices?" Lydia asked the frantic girl. Avalon nodded, an expression of pain on her fair face.

"Stiles," Avalon cried out. The pain of the rushing voices got worse and worse. "Help me," she said, her voice barely a whisper. Stiles wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a tight hug. He didn't know how that would help her, or if it would even help her at all. But it did. The voices slowly faded away, draining into the background.

"Thank you," she smiled, wiping the tears from her eyes, tugging away from Stiles's embrace. She stood up tall, telling herself to get her shit together. "You must be Lydia," she looked over at the strawberry blonde, "I'm Avalon." The two girls exchanged awkward looks, before they remembered why they were at the strange loft in the first place—Scott.

Stiles slid the large metal door open, making an irritable squeaking noise. Lydia was the first to enter, followed closely by Stiles. Avalon stayed close by Stiles's side, not knowing what to expect of the infamous twins. Then suddenly, two brooding teenage boys appeared from the shadows, immediately hitting Scott in the face. They then threw him across the room, Scott landing on the floor with a thump. Stiles grabbed Avalon's shoulders, pushing her out of the way. The twins smiled at each other maliciously, seeming to be getting a kick out of beating an alpha. The one on the left hurdled into the air, preforming a front flip before landing on the ground in a runner's stance. Scott scrambled onto his feet ad the twins approached him, taking turns punching Scott. They then threw him back to the ground, one of them kicking the side of him face.

"I thought you guys were gonna teach me to roar," Scott grunted, grasping his stomach in pain.

"We are, you do it by giving in and letting go. That's how Deucalion taught us control," one of the twins said, grabbing Scott's chest and pulling him up.

"Hey, you know what, that's funny. I actually tried something just like this one time using a heart monitor and lacrosse balls, but yeah. You're right. Beating the living crap out of him's probably a lot better," Stiles remarked. Avalon couldn't help but to smile slightly. He sure knew how to lighten the mood.

"That's actually the plan?" Scott asked the twins, not believing how little thought they'd put into this. "You kick my ass?"

"You're afraid to turn. We're gonna make you," The twin on the right said.

"You turn, then you kick our asses."

"And then you roar," The twin let out a small roar, canines and glowing blue eyes appearing.

"You don't think you can let go with us?"

"What, you think you're gonna hurt us?" The two twins began shoving him back and forth like schoolyard bullies. "Come on, McCall. Give it you're all."

"We can always heal." Scott then gave one of the twins a pathetic punch, not even causing him to wince. The two twins responded by punching him back ten times harder. "You're an alpha. You wanna roar like one, you gotta give in full throttle. You gotta be the monster. Become the beats. Become everything you're afraid of."

"That's what gives you power, gives you strength," the other twin chimed in. Scott gave another punch, missing his target. The twin hit him harder, causing him to fall to the ground.

Avalon squeezed Stiles's hand, afraid for her friend's safety. She could hear his thought process. She could hear him giving up.

Scott spit some blood onto the floor, moaning in pain. The twins went on giving Scott their pep talk as they continue beating him to a pulp. Avalon couldn't take it. She hated seeing her friend, one of the only people who actually cared about her safety, being injured like that. Stiles must've been able to tell how shaken up Avalon was because he wrapped one arm around her, pulling her in to his chest tightly. The sound of his beating heart calmed Avalon down. And that's all she did—she focused on Stiles' heartbeat, and then eventually the whole thing was over.

The one twin grabbed the other and pulled him off of Scott. "What?! I thought we were helping him," the twin who was previously taking multiple punches at Scott's bloodied face exclaimed.

"You helped too much," the other twin said calmly. Scott rolled over, bruised and battered, and spit some more blood from his mouth. Lydia, Stiles, and Avalon all slowly approached him. He would heal eventually, but Scott did not turn. The three pondered how their plan would work now that they were down an alpha.

* * *

The car ride was bumpy. Lydia sat shotgun as Stiles drove, with Avalon alone in the back. She could sense tension between Stiles and Lydia, and wondered if they had a past together. Then the voices started up again. Lydia's head whipped to the right, staring out the window. She was used to the numerous whispers in her head by now, but this was an entirely new experience for Avalon. Avalon grabbed the sides of her head, wanting nothing more than for it to stop.

"Breathe," Lydia told her. She could visibly see relief in Avalon's eyes as she deeply inhaled and exhaled. "It gets better."

After a short ten-minute ride, the Jeep came to a screeching haul in the woods. All three of the teens in the Jeep quickly hopped out and were then joined by Scott on his motorbike, and Isaac and Allison in a dark blue Toyota.

Everyone exchanged uncomfortable glances in the awkward silence. Finally Lydia spoke, "Anyone else think we might be doing more harm than good?"

"We're trying to keep a father from killing his own daughter," Scott optimistically replied.

"Actually we're trying to keep a guy from killing a coyote, who is actually his daughter, who we don't know how to change from a coyote back to his daughter" Isaac seemed to be the only one who was thinking logically.

"And again with the not helping," Stiles raised his eyebrows and made a particular facial expression at Isaac, who responded by furiously nodding. Avalon struggled to hold back laughter, but she maintained the serious atmosphere long enough for Scott to being to speak.

"Did you bring it?" he asked Allison. She then reached into the trunk of her car and pulled out an extremely large gun. Avalon could tell that _Allison was nervous without even hearing her thoughts, but they did_ confirm Allison's jittery nerves about this whole operation.

_This isn't going to work. I can't do this. _

Just then, almost perfectly timed, a gun fired in the distance. Scott immediately dashed off on his bike, ignoring Stiles as he screamed "WAIT WAIT WAIT" and furiously raced after him. Stiles stopped running after Scott, realizing he was too far to catch. He then took out his cell phone and dialed his father.

"It took the doll again… What the hell is so important about this doll?" Stiles spoke to his dad on the other end of the line. A look then struck Stiles' face, a look of pure realization. "It's the doll," he said before hanging up the phone. "It's the _doll_?". That's when Stiles' thought process began. "Alright, but why would it go all the way to the school and then all the way back to the house just for a doll?".

Lydia paced back and forth behind Stiles as he was squat down on the ground pondering out loud as he stared at the ground.

"One that was in the car wreck in the first place. We didn't find it in the coyote den…"

"It likes the doll, who cares?" worry was heavy in Lydia's voice. She continued to fidget and pace. Avalon just stood leaning against a tree in front of Stiles, far enough away from Lydia to slightly drown out the sound of rushing whispers coming from Lydia's head.

"Yeah it likes the doll a lot…" Stiles looked up at the sky then looked down again, shaking his head.

"What kind of doll is it?" Avalon asked.

"It's a –I don't know—it's a doll. You know, it's got little arms, a big baby head, dead soul-less," Stiles cringed the tiniest bit as he described the creepy toy, "Actually, I took a pic. Here."

Stiles took out his phone and Avalon and Lydia leaned over his shoulders to view the photo Stiles had taken. Avalon focused immensely on the silence radiating from Stiles' mind in order to drown out the hushed tones coming from Lydia's.

The photo was of Malia and her sister; one of the little girls was holding the doll. "That's Malia?" Avalon asked as she pointed to the young girl who was not holding the doll.

"Yeah. And that's the jacket and scarf we found in the den," Stiles added.

"Stiles, she's not holding the doll," Lydia observed.

Stiles looked up from the screen, discovery glazed over his eyes, "That's Malia's younger sister."

"It was her doll. It belonged to her little sister," Avalon concluded.

"I know what she'd doing," Stiles said faintly.

"What?" Lydia asked. Stiles did not answer the question, he only responded with another addition of information.

"I know where she'd going". He then began walking to an unknown destination, dialing Scott on his phone.

"Scott, it's me. You gotta call me back as soon as you can. It wasn't Malia's doll; it was her sister's. Malia left it at the car for her sister. It's like bringing flowers to a grave. Okay, and we stole the flowers. So that's all she's trying to do, right? Bring the doll back to the grave, to the car wreck—that's where she's headed, the car wreck."

Avalon and Lydia walked behind Stiles at a brisk pace, until Lydia abruptly stopped, and Avalon could hear the voices in Lydia's head become stronger and stronger.

"Stiles," Lydia whined urgently. Stiles and Avalon the observed Lydia's foot on the trigger of an un-triggered coyote trap.

"Lydia, don't move," Stiles told her, but Lydia's breath became extremely rugged and her heart raced. Her mind screamed louder and louder until Avalon couldn't take it anymore. She felt woozy. Avalon backed away, far enough away where Lydia's thoughts were drained, but she could still hear Lydia and Stiles's voices.

"Look for a warning label," Lydia told Stiles, "Instructions on how to disarm it."

"Why the hell would they put instructions on the bottom of a trap?" Stiles asked, his breathing becoming uneven as well.

"Because animals can't read." The two exchanged worried looks before Stiles got down on the ground and searched the metal device for a warning label.

Finally finding the bright red warning sticker, Stiles said, "We got a problem."

"Huh," Lydia breathed extremely nervously.

Stiles looked up from the trap, "I can't read either."

"Avalon," Lydia called, "Could you read the instructions to help get me out of here?". Avalon took a deep breath before attempting to take a step forward, but the thoughts pulsing from Lydia's mind were so strong, it physically hurt Avalon to move any closer.

"Lydia… I can't move any closer. I'm sorry. It hurts too bad," Avalon held her forehead. Lydia then returned back to Stiles.

"You don't need the instructions," she told Stiles encouragingly, "When is the last time you have ever used instructions, am I right?" She was now smiling, trying to make Stiles feel better as well as encourage him to find a way out for her. "You don't need them because you are too smart to waste your time with them, okay?" Stiles looked up at her, but Lydia was staring off into the distance so they failed to make eye contact. "You can figure it out." A tear fell down Lydia's cheek. "Stiles, you're the one who always figures it out." She took a deep ragged breath in, "So you can do it." Her breath continued to become more and more ragged "Figure. It. Out."

"Stiles stared at the trap for a moment, deep in thought. "Okay, here we go." He grabbed a small wheel, like the ones used to turn a garden hose on. "Ready?" he looked up at Lydia. She heaved in and out heavily. "Okay, here we go," Stiles muttered. He turned the wheel swiftly as Lydia jumped from the trap and into Stiles' arms. They stood there for a brief moment catching their breaths, before letting go of each other.

"Avalon?" Stiles called, "You alright?" He held out an arm for her and she nodded as she tucked her shoulder beneath is as the three of them began to walk back to the car. Their trek was interrupted by an immensely loud roar, which they assumed came from Scott. "Now that's what I'm talking about," Stiles said, his eyes widening.

Avalon then fell to the ground, unconscious. Stiles and Lydia rushed to her aide. When Scott's roar finally faded into silence, Avalon's eyes fluttered open again, shaken up from fainting because of an unknown reason. Stiles and Lydia helped her up.

"You okay?" Stiles asked Avalon.

"Yeah, I think so."

"Come on, I'll take you home."

* * *

Before Stiles could get Avalon home, he had to go with his dad to bring Malia back to Mr. Tate. The two sat patiently in the sheriff's SUV. They watched as Mr. Tate and his daughter were joyously reunited. Sheriff Stilinski then got back into the truck.

"Who's your friend, Stiles?" he asked, referring to Avalon.

"Oh. This is Avalon. She's new. If it's alright with you, I'm just gonna drop her off at home, so it you could take us to my Jeep, that would be great." The sheriff gave Stiles a disapproving look.

"Why can't I just take her home right now?"

"_Dad_," Stiles emphasized.

_You're not having sex are you?_ Sheriff Stilinski thought.

"Alright. Fine. But I want you home for dinner." Mr. Stilinski drove reluctantly back in the woods to Stiles' car. Avalon and Stiles exited the sheriff's vehicle and hopped into his bright blue Jeep.

"Where do you live?" he asked Avalon.

"Not too far from here. Just out of the woods and to the right." Stiles did as she instructed. And within five minutes they were in front of the Jones' lovely abode.

"Are your parents home?" Stiles observed no cars in the driveway, as well as no signs of inhabitants in the house.

"No. They're probably still working." Avalon unbuckled her seatbelt. "Thanks for the ride, Stiles. That was really nice of you." She gave a polite smile then stepped out of the car and began up the steps to her front door.

"Wait!" Stiles called as he hopped out of his Jeep and chased up the steps after her. "You fainted earlier. I should make sure you're alright."

"Stiles, I'm fine, really." She unlocked her front door and stepped inside the house. "Thanks again, Stiles—for everything." Avalon then gave one last soft grin before shutting and locking the door. She was under the impression that maybe if she tagged along, she would be helpful in some way, but today was proven to be yet another example of how useless Avalon truly was. The only thing she was capable of doing was hearing other people's thoughts, and although that's a pro characteristic in a lot of ways, it was an extreme con around Lydia. If there was only some way to block out the sound of Lydia's mind, then Avalon might be of some use to the bunch of supernatural teens. But there wasn't, and Avalon was still useless to them. That's something she was used to being, and something she would always be—useless.

**A/N:**

**Sorry this is not very fan-fictional and is a lot of the same stuff from the episode; this part was extremely difficult to transform into something involving Avalon, which is why this chapter took so long to be published. The next chapter will be up extremely soon! Yay! I'm so happy with the feedback I've gotten. Your opinions mean the world to me so please keep reviewing!**

**XX, Izzy**

**:)**


	4. Slight Importance

**Chapter 4: **_**Slight Importance**_

**Songs:**

_Stay Loose_ by BRONCHO

_Late Night_ by Foals

* * *

Avalon stumbled into Beacon Hills High on the morning after Mischief Night to discover the halls trashed with toilet paper. She had no clue what was going on, so she waited by her locker until she spotted someone she knew, which happened to be Scott and Stiles.

"Hey guys," she approached them as Stiles opened his locker. Scott looked deep in thought as he gazed at another new girl, Mr. Yukimura's daughter, Kira.

"Hey, Avalon" Stiles greeted monotonously as he shoved some books into his backpack. "Scott, what are you looking at?"

"Me?" Scott asked. _Shit. Uh-uh-um_ his mind stuttered, searching for a believable lie.

"You looking at her?" Stiles referred to Kira across the hall.

"Who 'her'? Avalon?" Scott attempted to act oblivious.

"No, _her_ her," Stiles gestured to Kira. "You like her?"

"No," Scott answered all to quickly, but his mind said otherwise.

"Really, Scott?" Avalon pushed him to admit his feelings.

"I mean, uh, yeah. Yeah, she's okay. She's… new."

Stiles' glance then shifted to Avalon before he shut his locker.

"Scott…" she began, "You should ask her out." Scott's eyes widened.

"Now?" Scott asked.

"Yes, now," Stiles said, frustrated, as he fumbled with his lock, walking away as he finally got his locker to close properly.

"Right now?"

"Right now. Scott, I don't think you get it. You're an alpha," Stiles began his pep talk as he patted Scott's shoulder, "Everyone wants you, you know? You're like the hot girl that every guy wants." Stiles then unconsciously glanced at Avalon, which caused her to blush.

"The hot girl?" Scott asked, slightly confused.

_So I'm like a girl, that's great…_

"You are the hottest girl," Stiles finished just as Isaac walked up, then Stiles began walking away.

"She likes you, Scott. Just go for it," Avalon said softly in Scott's ear before following behind Stiles.

"So what's up with all the pranks?" she asked, as Scott joined them as they walked to history together for first period.

"Last night was Mischief Night," Scott informed her. "Starting at midnight on October 30th, everyone in the school plays pranks and stuff."

"_And_ it just so happens that it's Coach's birthday, too. So he gets extra love," Stiles wriggled his eyebrows and made a suggestive face before the other two let out a sigh of a laugh. "So, Avalon," Stiles began, "How've you been? You know, with your whole telepathy and everything?" He said the word telepathy in a dramatically hushed tone.

Avalon hadn't even really thought about her progress until Stiles brought it up that moment, but now that she was thinking about it, it appeared she'd made significant progress. "It's getting better, actually. It's not too bad as long as I focus…" her voice faded out after she said _focus_. She realized how much of a mistake it was for her to tell that to Stiles, since he was the one she concentrated on. He was the one who kept her sane. Avalon didn't want Stiles to know that, though. After all, they hardly knew each other. It had only been a week since they'd met and yet Avalon already felt a very string connection to him. But she concluded it was because she was in love with the silence; not an actual connection or attraction to him, but to the silence which his mind provided.

"That's good." Stiles replied. Avalon felt as if a weight was lifted off of her chest when he didn't ask any further questions. The three of them strolled into their history class, took their seats and then class began.

* * *

The class heard a huge crashing sound, followed by an extremely loud "Son of a bitch!" coming from Coach's office. They were in economics, a class Avalon personally hated, mainly because Coach Finnstock slightly frightened her. The entire class began bubbling with laughter.

_Stiles, it worked!_ Scott thought. Stiles and Scott exchanged looks of pure joy as Coach entered the room, steaming with anger.

"Mischief night," Coach said firmly, throwing a pencil to the ground. "Devil night. I don't care what you call it. You little punks are evil." The class continued faintly laughing; the look on Stiles' face was priceless. "You think it's funny every Halloween my house gets egged? A man's house is supposed to be his castle." Everyone laughed at little harder and more freely at Coach's manhood soliloquy. Coach then slapped Scott's desk angrily. "Mine's a frickin' omelet!" He then grabbed a small red wrapped box with a blue bow on the top. "Oh this. We're gonna do this again. I don't think so." Coach threw the gift to the ground and smashed it, creating a sound similar to a shattering glass. Leaning down and picking up a broken mug from the remnants of the crushed box, Coach then read the note attached under his breath. "Happy birthday. Love, Greenberg."

A buzzing sound filled Avalon's ears. She looked around the room, spotting Lydia in the other corner of the room at her desk, swatting at a fly which wasn't there. Avalon closed her eyes, trying with all her might to hone in on the sound, to figure out what it meant. After a short while of attempts, Avalon could not pin point why Lydia was hearing such a bizarre sound, but she did come to a conclusion: something bad was about to happen.

And sure enough, she was right. After econ was over, Sheriff Stilinski shower up, informing the school that William Barrow had escaped from his scheduled surgery at the hospital, and was seen headed towards Beacon Hills High School.

"Wait, wait, wait. _The_ William Barrow—the shrapnel bomber—spotted near by…?" Stiles rapidly followed his dad through the halls.

"A little closer than near by, actually," the sheriff informed his son in a hushed tone. Agent McCall of the FBI passed Stiles and his father, ordering all entrances and exits to the school be sealed.

"Dad, what's really going on?" Stiles asked, worry on his face.

* * *

Avalon was alone, again. Scott and Stiles were out of sight, and she was far too unsocial to make any new friends on her own. Luckily, someone was willing to meet her half way.

"Hi. You're Avalon, right?" Allison Argent approached her. Avalon was standing in front of her locker, watching like a lone gazelle as the other teens socialized in the halls.

"Yeah. Allison, right?"

_I know how you're feeling right now. All of this can get pretty overwhelming_, Allison said in her head, not knowing that Avalon was listening to her thoughts.

"Yeah" Allison smiled, "Look, if you ever need anyone to talk to or anything like that, I'm here."

There was then an uncomfortable silence, and when Avalon finally broke it, it didn't help. "Do you know… what I can… _do_?"

Allison gave a strange look as she shook her head. "I just assumed you were another werewolf…"

"I can… I'm sort of… I don't really know _what_ I am, but I can… read minds."

"Allison," Isaac came rushing, followed by Stiles.

"I just talked to my dad. He said that Barrow tried to kill those kids because they had glowing eyes," Stiles informed them as they walked hurriedly down a flight of stairs.

"Barrow went after kids with glowing eyes, he said those exact words?" Isaac confirmed.

"Yeah. No one knows how he woke up from anesthesia, just that when they opened him up they found a tumor filled with live flies, which in any other circumstance would actually be all kinds of awesome."

"Wait, Stiles—" Avalon interjected.

"Did you say flies?" Lydia said from behind her. Avalon didn't even notice that she was there, which was extremely odd since she'd hardly been able to be in the same room with her, let alone stand right next to her without even knowing. Avalon heard no voices, only the faint buzzing sound, which she'd been hearing all day since econ.

"Lydia?" All of the teens stopped walking as Lydia spoke.

"All day I have been hearing this sound. It's like…" Lydia seemed agitated.

"Buzzing?" Avalon joined in. Lydia nodded.

"Like the sound of flies?" Allison asked as she, along with Stiles and Isaac, began walking closer to Lydia.

"Exactly like the sound of flies."

All of them then scurried around, looking for Scott and trying to find Sheriff Stilinski; everyone except for Avalon, that is. Avalon found herself wandering the halls, not exactly knowing what she was looking for, but she knew she was looking for something. She found herself in Coach's disfigured office. But soon the feelings in her gut that something was there faded away, so she kept wandering, until she reached the chemistry room. Avalon closed her eyes and focused on the faint buzzing, listening as it got louder and quieter. Her eyes shot open when Allison, Stiles, and Lydia abruptly entered the room. Allison walked straight to the window, opening the blinds.

"The bestiary is literally a thousand pages long. If I'm going to find anything about flies coming out of people's bodies, it could take me all night." She lifted the window open and began to step out.

"And remember, the word in Archaic Latin for fly is _busca_." Lydia informed Allison.

"Got it." Allison climbed completely out of the window and disappeared into the parking lot.

"Where do we start?" Lydia asked Stiles.

"Upstairs." They both looked at the clock as Avalon approached them. "We gotta go!" Stiles said, and the three of them went off in a rush.

They went up to the art room, which was twice as large as a normal classroom.

"Who's down in the basement?" Avalon asked.

"Scott and Isaac I think."

"Yeah with Ethan and Aidan. The plan is we meet in the middle in the boiler room," Stiles aid as he leaned down to look under desks. Lydia and Avalon looked at the wall of paintings labeled _Man vs. Nature_. Lydia looked at one particular picture of a nuclear explosion.

"All of the wolves," she said, her face and voice filled with concern.

"All of the ones with _glowing eyes_," Avalon added, getting closer to Stiles.

"They're all in the basement at the boiler room."

"Oh my God." Stiles said, turning to face the girls. "An engineer can use the boiler room to blow up the whole school."

"We have to get them out of there."

"Yeah we have to get everyone out" Stiles said, his eyes wide.

"How do we do that?" asked Lydia.

Avalon roamed around the room, thinking of ways to help, and then it hit her. "A fire alarm."

She said, rushing out to the hall, Stiles and Lydia following closely behind, until she reached the small red fire alarm attached to the wall. Stiles grabbed the alarm, yanking it down, followed by an ear-piercing ring. He held it down, a triumphant look on his face, but Lydia and Avalon gave him looks signaling for him to stop. Coach was standing directly behind Stiles, so close that when Stiles turned around his face was almost touching Coach's. Coach grabbed Stiles' ear, pulling him down the hall and out of the building.

"Pulling a fire alarm on Mischief Night is one thing. Doing it when there is a mass murderer spotted near by is INSANE!" he yelled, veins bulging from his neck out of anger. "If I were four years younger, I-I'd punch you!"

"What? Coach that doesn't make sense," Stiles crinkled his eyebrows.

"Oh well it does to me." Coach then walked away, disappearing inside the halls of Beacon Hills High.

Avalon then grabbed Stiles' hand and followed Lydia as she began to walk swiftly toward the parking lot.

"We didn't find anything," Ethan, along with Scott, Isaac, and Aidan, came rushing up to Lydia, Stiles, and Avalon.

"Not even a scent," Scott added.

"It's three o'clock so school's over. If there was a bomb wouldn't he have set if off by now?" Stiles glanced at Avalon.

"Does that mean everyone's safe?' Aidan asked.

"I don't know," Lydia answered. "I just…" Everyone was looking at Lydia, waiting for her to give them some indication. "I don't know."

Even thought Stile invited Avalon to go over to his house with Lydia to discuss all the possibilities for where Barrow could be and what he may have planned, Avalon declined his offer. Whenever she was with Stiles and Lydia, she felt unwanted and unnecessary, as if nothing would be different if she wasn't even there. She got a ride from Stiles home, and then tried to start her homework. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't focus. She kept zoning out. Her mind was in a world of its own. To clear her mind, she decided to go on a walk. She walked down her street, and kept walking and walking and walking, until, without even realizing it until she saw Stiles' blue Jeep in the parking lot, she was at the school. An icy cold rush fell over her; Avalon didn't know whether that was a sign telling her to leave or enter the deserted school. But as she listened closely to the faint buzzing coming from inside the building, she concluded that Stiles and Lydia _must_ be in there. So she pulled the large metal door open and followed the buzzing down the hall and eventually into the chemistry classroom. There, were Stiles are Lydia staring at a blackboard with three numbers listed vertically, with letters next to each one, spelling out "K I Ra".

"Kira," Avalon said under her breath. Stiles and Lydia swiftly turned around, frightened because they didn't know anyone else was there.

"Avalon… How did you get here—why are you at the school so late?" Stiles asked, his heart still racing from the slight scare Avalon caused.

"I could ask you the same question." She folded her arms at her chest, trying to act confident, but the quivering in her voice overcompensated, "I-I don't know." Avalon seemed to be on the verge of a breakdown. "I just- I went on a walk because I-I couldn't think straight," Avalon grabbed the sides of her head. "I-I-I was just walking and then—the buzzing, and—I don't know. I Just—" Avalon began to cry just as Stiles wrapped his arms around her. She tucked her head into his shoulder, Stiles' tee shirt soaking up her tears.

"You're okay," Stiles comforted her as he lightly stroked her back.

"I'm fine. I'm fine." Avalon pulled away from Stiles, wiping the remaining tears off her cheeks. "So what's going on? Why is Kira's name up on the board?" Stiles and Lydia looked at one another.

"Barrow's going after Kira. We gotta go, _now_." The three teens rushed out of the building, then into Stiles' car, zipping off to Kira's house.

"Scott, _Scott_!" Stiles shook his best friend, who was unconscious on the ground outside of Kira's house. Scott's eyes opened as he sat up, catching his breath before speaking.

"Barrow—he took Kira!"

"We know. He was after her the whole time," Stiles informed. Scott then stood up, dialing Isaac, who was with Allison doing supernatural research, looking for something to do with flies.

"Did you find anything?" Scott asked right as Isaac picked up the phone.

"No, nothing. Just stuff about flies in the dead. Nothing else."

"Alright thanks," Scott hung up, turning to Stiles, Avalon, and Lydia, who were anxiously waiting for any news. "We have to think of something. He's gonna kill her!" Scott's breathing was slightly uneasy.

"I knew he was there," Lydia urged, seeming upset. But Avalon knew, too. She kept going back to the chemistry room, multiple times that day, as if she was drawn to it, or rather to _him_. "How did I know that?" Lydia asked.

"Because you heard the flies, right?"

"What do you hear now?"

Lydia listened closely, "Nothing." She looked up at them with glossed over eyes. "I _feel _like I can do this, but I don't know what to do. It's like it's on the tip of my tongue, but I don't know how to trigger it." Lydia brought her hands to her forehead, stressed, upset, and frustrated. "I swear to God. It literally makes me want to scream."

"Then do it." All eyes went to Avalon, surprised that she spoke up. "Just follow your instincts. I've been doing exactly that all day, and it kept leading me back to the chemistry room, back to the person we spent all day searching for, I just—I didn't have the courage to carry it through. I doubted myself. But you… you're strong, Lydia—way stronger than you know. So do it. Scream."

Lydia didn't even think twice about it. She immediately let out an ear-piercing screech. And then the faint buzzing noise returned, but this time it was different.

"Do you hear that?" Avalon asked Lydia in a hushed tone. The two girls looked up at the streetlight, realizing what the buzzing sound _really_ was. "It's not flies."

"It's electricity."

* * *

**A/N:**

**First of all, I want to give a big thank you to winchesterxgirl! Her feedback literally encourages me to keep writing, it's great :)**

**This chapter as difficult for me to write, mainly because I love Stydia so much that I didn't want to ruin their little moments. So, instead of replacing Lydia with Avalon in some scenes, which I originally planned on doing, I added her to them. The scene in Stiles room, however, I kept Avalon out of because it's so precious, with Stiles saying how much he believes in Lydia, I couldn't bring myself to manipulate it. Which brings me to another very important point. So far, I've been using the **_**exact**_** lines from episodes 2 and 3 of season 3B. However, in order to further the relationship between Stiles and Avalon, as well as to add in what exactly Avalon **_**is**_** to the chaos with the Oni and the Nogitsune (and yes—Avalon is indeed **_**something**_**!) I will from now on editing the episodes, as well as the exact lines in the show. I ****will also add scenes and moments in that were certainly not in the show. I really hope this doesn't upset you, since I've followed the show so exact this far!**

**Thanks lovies and don't forget to like, follow, and review!**

**XX, izzy :)**

**P.S.—Sorry if there's any typos, my Microsoft Word is being glitchy.**


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